


Truth Hits Everybody (the Time and Place remix)

by Lady_Ganesh



Category: Fix Bay'nets - George Manville Fenn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambition, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, M/M, Military Homophobia, Then and Now, broken ties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 11:29:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20705258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ganesh/pseuds/Lady_Ganesh
Summary: He was always an outsider, when it came to Bracy and Gedge. Once, he hadn't minded.





	Truth Hits Everybody (the Time and Place remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Daegaer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Want](https://archiveofourown.org/works/124758) by [Daegaer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer). 

**Muthanna Province, 1991**

_I don’t get paid enough for this,_ Roberts thought.

Bill Gedge had been popular with his men, not just his commanding officer. Roberts had known this was going to be difficult, but he hadn’t expected most of his unit to be so...reluctant. In the end, he was left alone with the sergeant, staring straight ahead, as though he’d been captured by the enemy and wanted to reveal as little as possible.

“I don’t expect you to give me the other man’s name,” Roberts said, as if everyone in the unit didn’t know who it was. “If you leave quietly, you can probably salvage his career. I’m sorry, but it's too late for you."

Gedge's eyes flashed, and Roberts knew what he was thinking: if Gedge had been born to a higher station in life, it would be Bracy facing the ultimatum. Though Warren had only seen Gedge clearly, his memory could probably be refreshed, under the right circumstances. But Bracy was an excellent officer, and they weren't easy to find these days. Men like Gedge were all too common. "I want to speak with my commanding officer," he said, the last word sounding rough and common. "You can't stop me from doin' that, can ya?"

"I think you've done enough damage, haven't you?" The rumors had been starting to become unmanageable. The jokes the boys made when they'd too much to drink were getting to be enough to bring suspicion on the whole unit. Roberts had seen enough of the two men mooning over one another himself. It had to be stopped, or Bracy's career would be over, and take Roberts's with it. Roberts hadn't sweated his ass off in the desert to let some oversexed enlisted man ruin it all. There'd be another war, and more chances to lead. Roberts fully intended to make the most of what lay before him.

Gedge seemed to deflate a little with Bracy in his thoughts, and Roberts felt a little sorry for him. He was young, still; this had probably been his first big flirtation. The kind of thing that made kids reckless. But he'd infected Bracy with his recklessness too. They touched too often, glanced at each other when they thought no one was paying attention. They were obvious to anyone who bothered looking.

It was why Roberts had, eventually, had to look.

"I still want to talk with him," Gedge said, eventually. "Sit here and chaperone for all I care."

But Roberts didn't have a chance to refuse. "Andrew," came Bracy's voice, booming into the tent that Roberts had been using as a field office. "Andrew, what the hell's going on? Someone told me you were in here with--oh.”

The look of betrayal on Bracy's face as he recognized Gedge caught Roberts up short.

"You have to understand," he said. "It's not just about the two of you--"

"I don't know what you're on about," Bracy said, his voice as distant as a stranger's. "What the hell are you on about?"

"We're discharging Sergeant Gedge," Roberts said, hardening his voice and falling back on formality. "You of all people should know why."

Bracy, to his credit, didn't bother playing dumb. "On what evidence, Captain?"

"That's no concern of yours."

"I'm his superior officer, Roberts, or did you forget?"

"I'm not the one who might have forgotten, Captain." They'd been friends. Roberts had wanted to climb up the ranks with Bracy at his side. _How quickly a dream can fade._ "The investigation is over. You should get back to your duties, to serving the remaining soldiers under your command."

Bracy moved, as though he was about to say something, then paused. "I understand, Captain. Sergeant?"

"Sir?" Gedge's whole body tensed at the sound of his name. _Like a dog,_ Roberts thought with disdain.

"You can appeal, if you'd like."

"Nah, Sir. I don't think I will, with all respect. I'll go back home, see my Mum. She's missed me something awful. Don't worry about me, Sir. I'll get by.” He glanced over at Roberts. “I'm a bit tired of secrets, Captain."

Bracy nodded, matter-of-factly. "If you're--"

"I’ll have free plane trip back. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"All right, Sergeant." Gedge glanced back at Roberts. "I'll walk him back, if you'd like."

"No, thank you," Roberts said. It felt petty to deny him that, but the last thing he needed was a scandal to erupt now that the whole sordid business was almost at its end.

Bracy just nodded.

Roberts felt like he was witnessing an anticlimax; he'd expected anger, sorrow, something. Instead Bracy had withdrawn completely, and Gedge had his chin held firmly high, as though he'd not been found on his knees in the men's when he should have been in his barracks. To think that Bracy would take such risks for someone that meant so little to him...

_Not all of us are strong-willed enough to resist our appetites, I suppose._

**London, 2016**

“Edmund,” he hears. “Ain’t that Roberts?”

“So what if it is?”

“Don’t be like that. You know--”

“Don’t you dare make excuses for him.”

“You’ve been out twenty years. He stayed in, didn’t he? Things changed.”

That they had. Things started changing not long after Bracy had left service, in fact. They’d changed fast, in ways Roberts would never have dreamt of when he’d reported Bill Gedge. He couldn’t hear the rest of what they were saying, though it had the hint of a lover’s squabble; nothing serious, just the two of them working through something. 

They’d been a well-oiled machine in-country. His commanding officer had said he hated to break the two of them up, and it was only years later that Roberts had realized that Graves had meant it as a reprimand. Back then he’d been ruled by his ambition, and his fear.

But Bill Gedge was right. Things had changed.

He busied himself with the muesli. It seemed like every time he was back in London, they’d changed half the damn packaging, and got rid of whatever it was he’d liked best.

“What’d I tell you, Ed?”

And there was Bill Gedge, no longer the young, too-eager sergeant Roberts remembered, but with wire-rimmed glasses and hair shading to grey at his temples. Behind him was Bracy, much the same as he’d always looked, though a bit greyer and heavier himself. His expression was just as guarded, as well. Bracy had never really trusted Roberts after Gedge left. Roberts supposed he couldn’t blame the man.

He forced a smile. “I didn’t realize you were in London,” he said, because he couldn’t think of anything better, and silence would have seemed hostile.

“Since I was discharged,” Gedge said, and extended his hand, just as though he and Roberts had been old friends. “You still in?”

“Until they tell me otherwise, I suppose.” Gedge’s handshake was solid. “How've you both been?”

“Ah, well enough. I’m at a little cafe over in Chelsea--”

“He manages a cafe in Chelsea,” Bracy cut in, smooth as glass. “I’m teaching.” 

They’d landed on their feet, then. Bracy had put in his notice as soon as he’d been able to after Gedge had left, and Roberts had always wondered if they’d ended up together. It was obvious now, more obvious even than all their flirtation back in the field had been. They’d been more loyal to one another than Roberts might have guessed.

He knew he should be happy for them.

“‘S always harder for you,” Gedge said. “I’m glad you made it through.”

“Oh,” Roberts said, taken aback.

“Well,” he said. “I didn’t mind so much leavin’, since I knew I had Ed waiting for me at the end of it. And Ed, he had me, and his family; he knew he’d be all right. But you were in it for the long haul. Making a career out of it, and well. It wasn’t so safe back then.”

Absurd as it was, Robert’s pulse leaped, the way it might have been if it had been twenty years ago that Bill Gedge had looked straight through him. He supposed Bill Gedge _had_ seen straight through him twenty years ago.

Gedge smiled, sympathetically, and clapped him on the shoulder. He noticed the plain gold band on Gedge's hand; a match for Bracy's. Christ, married too. “I was lucky, with Ed. My mum and dad weren’t too keen on it at first, but they got through it. But how’re you?”

“Fine,” he said. “Just fine.” He hadn’t advanced as quickly as he would have liked, but he’d advanced. 

“Well, that’s good,” he said. “I’ll let you officers catch up a bit.”

And then he was gone, before either of them had a chance to make excuses, and Roberts didn’t have the faintest idea of what to say next.

“He’s told me to forgive you for years,” Bracy said, and his face was genial, but Roberts heard what was in his low-pitched voice. “He’s a better man than I deserve.”

“I’m not about to ask forgiveness,” Roberts said. 

“Then we’re agreed,” Bracy said. He glanced in the direction Gedge had taken. “Andrew,” he said, and hearing his Christian name was another punch in the gut. “I hope you’re happy now. I do. But I hope I don’t see you again.”

By the time Roberts found words to respond--_I understand_ was the only thing that came to mind--Bracy was gone. Just as well. Whatever chance they might have had for reconciliation had faded a long time ago, and friendship had been lost long before that. He'd made his choice. He wouldn't regret it.

Roberts always stayed with his sister when he was in London; it was cheaper, and he made up for it by picking up groceries and cooking for her family. She wasn't back from work yet, and her children had football practice in the afternoon, so he came back to an empty flat. He rather enjoyed the silence, and it was certainly a pleasure to cook his own food again. Later in the week he might attempt a crown roast, but for now he had a good-sized duck, enough for two adults and two athletic teenagers, and some rather nice new potatoes. He wasn't sure if Zoe and Alan liked duck, but they seemed to appreciate his efforts, nonetheless.

It wasn't a bad life. He had friends in the service, his family. His career was, more or less, where he wanted it to be; delayed success was still success. 

His hands weren't as steady as they should have been as he slid the duck into the oven.

He decided to go for a walk while the duck was roasting, and to hope like hell he wouldn't run into anyone else he knew. It was a nice day, unseasonably sunny, and he felt a bit more steady as he approached his sister's building. He held the door for a man overburdened with packages. "Oh, thank you," the man said, and Roberts caught sight of a bright, brilliant smile. 

"It's no trouble," he said.

"Well, if it's like that, would you mind helping me with my door?"

Roberts didn't. The man lived a floor above Jennifer, and Roberts held a bulky box of 'canvases, they're not that heavy, just awkward' as he unlocked the door. When the packages were away from his face he was handsome. Dark-skinned, bright, animated eyes. Not too far from Roberts's own age, if he wasn't mistaken.

"I do appreciate this," he said. "Very much. I haven't met you before, have I?"

"No," he said. "I'm--I'm just staying with my sister for a few weeks. I'm Andrew. Andrew Roberts."

"Nice to meet you, Andrew. I'm Dylan. You have plans tonight? I was going to grab a pint, might be nice to have some company. If--if you'd like to bring someone round, that's fine too, of course."

"It's just me," Roberts said, before he thought better of it. He readied an excuse, one of the old ones: _But I get so little time with my sister, and my niece and nephew are growing so fast..._

But what did he have to hide any more? Why did he still think he needed to?

_I'm a bit tired of secrets,_ he thought. "I haven't been out to a pub in a long time," he said. "I'd like that."

"Well, then, Andrew. You know mine. Come by around eight?"

"I'll do that," he said. And maybe he'd tell Jennifer not to wait up.


End file.
